


Dancing in the mirror...

by Romalde



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Singing, but nothing too R rated, there's some naked going on at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:32:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3837238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romalde/pseuds/Romalde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis likes his sleep. He really does. So when his new neighbour starts singing loudly through the paper thin walls every morning while taking a shower, Louis is not pleased.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in the mirror...

The first time it happens, Louis is extremely confused. He's awakened by a noise coming from his bathroom, but he's pretty sure he lives in his apartment very much alone. He looks at the alarm on his night stand – 7:32 AM – and not only is he scared of whoever found their way into his bathroom, but now he's also severely pissed off that he's awake before noon.

He looks around his bedroom for anything that he could use to smack someone with and settles for his framed poster of the Doors. God, how he wishes he'd gotten into baseball instead of music in his teenage years.

He tiptoes to the bathroom, breath coming out strained, and he's so tense he's afraid he's going to cramp up at any second. The closer he gets to the bathroom, the more he can make out, and his confusion only gets worse. The noise sounds a lot like... singing?

Who on earth would break into his apartment, only to take a shower and sing in it?

He carefully nudges the door open with his toes, pleased to find that at least it isn't locked and the element of surprise will be on his side. However, even though he can clearly hear a shower running now, there's no hot moist air coming out of the bathroom. Oh God, he's in a horror movie. His bathroom is haunted, and he's going to be the token gay guy who will die first.

He tiptoes into the bathroom. The shower curtain isn't drawn, but the noises of water and singing are still there. As a matter of fact, the singing is really rather nice. And muffled.

It's then that Louis' sleep-deprived brain connects the dots. It's his new fucking neighbour who's taking a shower, and who apparently thinks it's very much okay to sing loud enough that it wakes Louis up in the morning.

Frustrated and tired, Louis smacks the wall loudly, and the singing stops for a second, before picking up again. This time, he thinks he recognizes a song by Pink Floyd. Oh well, at least the singer on the other side of the wall has decent taste in music.

He saunters back to his bed, pulls his pillow over his head and hopes that it will remain a one-time thing.

* * *

 

It doesn't remain a one-time thing.

It's not like he's woken up every single morning by his new singing neighbour, but the guy has an unfortunate tendency to sing loudest whenever Louis needs his sleep most. Like after a late shift at the restaurant the night before, or when he's stayed up late to do his homework.

Louis tries everything, from trying to sound-proof his bathroom door with towels and pillows, to earplugs and even heavy duty earmuffs, fit for construction sites, but he's somehow become so incredibly tuned in to the singing, that even the smallest amount of that voice will wake him up without fail.

He's considered walking over to his neighbour several times, maybe bake some cookies and ring his doorbell under the guise of welcoming him to the building, but he doesn't bake and he's not actually rude enough to whine about the guy's singing.

The game changer happens when Louis has an early class – one that he usually definitely doesn't go to, but they'd received a warning by email that they'd be covering some stuff that would be really important for the mid-terms – so he rolls himself out of bed at 7:15. Before even considering doing anything, he makes himself a nice strong cup of tea to wake him up.

He's about to brush his teeth when he notices his hair. He'd hoped he would be able to go on one more day without having to wash all the product out, but it looks really ridiculous, so he decides to take a shower.

He's about a minute in when he hears the shower next door turn on, followed almost immediately by singing.

Oh my God, the guy's singing Gloria Gaynor. And he sounds like he's really into it, too.

Louis actually finds himself smiling at the idea of some guy using his bottle of shampoo as a pretend microphone, singing his heart out to the world's queerest song. Louis is tapping his foot to the beat and mouthing along the words, and by the time his neighbour gets to the refrain, he really can't stop himself.

_“Oh no not I! I will survive! Oh as long as I know how to love, I know I'll stay alive!”_

On the other side of the wall, the singing stops for a beat, followed by an incredibly loud single burst of laughter, before the neighbour picks up where Louis had carried on.

They finish the entire song that day, and Louis is feeling loads better than he usually would this early in the morning. Before he gets out of the shower, he yells a quick “have a good day, mate!” at his unknown neighbour. He smiles when he gets a “you too!” back.

When he walks out his door to go to class, he looks around, lingers a bit, hoping that he'll meet the guy who he'd performed that lovely duet with, but he has no suck luck.

Oh well. Louis figures it's probably a lot more fun to sing duets with a mystery guy any way.

* * *

 

Singing duets in the shower becomes a bit of a habit. It starts out once a week, when Louis has spontaneously and for no particular reason decided to attend his early morning class. The week after the first time, he steps into the shower to find his neighbour already singing _A Day in the Life_ , and Louis joins in effortlessly.

He finds himself looking forward to his next early morning class, because singing in the shower always leaves him happy. Even his friends, Liam and Zayn, comment on it. He can't really blame them, seeing as he's usually no fun whatsoever before noon and at least three cups of tea.

By the third time, and after a thrilling, harmonious duet of _Be my Baby_ by the Ronettes, Louis decides he doesn't necessarily have to wait an entire week. So, the next time his neighbour's singing wakes him up, he gets up quickly and joins in a loud rendition of _Good Vibrations_.

Louis learns multiple things about his neighbour. For one, he gets up early at Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays. The other days, Louis has to leave before he can discern any signs of life on the other side of his bathroom wall.

Second, he takes a peek at his neighbour's mailbox and learns that his name is H. Styles. He may or may not have looked up baby names starting with the letter 'h' on his laptop after finding out that particular tidbit of information. He figures his neighbour probably has a really hip name like Hunter, or Harvey. Then again, as long as his neighbour wasn't called Hans, he was pretty much fine with anything.

Third, he learns that, like himself, his neighbour (who he's started calling H in his head) has a mild obsession with 60s songs. They sing a very wide range of songs together, varying from the Shangri-Las to the Velvet Underground and Creedence Clearwater Revival. Sure, he's never met the guy, but he already knows they'd get along swimmingly, based on music style alone.

By the time spring comes around, the singing has become a tradition almost every single morning. It's only on Sundays that neither of them seem to be able to bring themselves to get up early for some quality harmonizing. Louis figures they've earned their sleep in that day.

Because of his new habit to rise early, Louis finds himself keeping up with his classes easily. Not only does he attend the ones that he would have normally pegged as 'too bloody early to attend', but on days that he doesn't have class but does get up early, he often spends his spare time actually doing homework. Not to mention that the state of his apartment has improved drastically, because when he doesn't have homework to do (he never thought he'd ever have a moment when there was no homework to do, but okay) he tidies and cleans a bit. Sure, it's not his mother's house, which – despite having had eight people living there at one time – had always been immaculate, but it's much better than it was. For example, he can see his floor now.

It's a bright, sunny day that's completely unusual and un-British for this time of year, and Louis forces Liam and Zayn outside to get a head start in building up a tan. He rolls his trousers up to his knees and takes off his cardigan before throwing himself in a soft patch of grass.

Zayn plants himself in the shadow of a large tree, refusing to take off his leather jacket but also refusing to acknowledge that he's bloody hot in the thing. Liam just plops himself down in between the two, getting out his homework. Louis is silently pleased that he's already done all of it.

“I hope it stays like this,” Louis says, enjoying the warmth of the sun. He's got his eyes closed, so he misses Zayn's glare.

All around them, students are drifting out of the school buildings, lured out by what could possibly be the only good day of the year. The field in front of the faculty is actually stuffed with people, chatting and having a laugh. Someone nearly trips over Louis' crossed ankles – a blonde dude carrying a guitar, looking for a free patch with his friend – and Louis nearly cusses him out, but decides against it because it really is ridiculously busy and there's no way of going about without jostling someone left or right. The guy does apologize, so it's alright.

Before long, Louis drifts off a bit to the sounds of Liam and Zayn murmuring about homework, the indistinct noises of people chattering around them and birds chirping happily in the trees above them. The warmth of the sun is very, very pleasant.

When he wakes to the singing of his neighbour, he's a bit disorientated. For one, it's way too bright to be early morning, and his bed feels both too warm and too hard. Not to mention, the singing sounds louder and less muffled than usual, and there's accompanying music this time. Did H buy a bathroom radio?

Then, all the chatter around him registers and he is reminded that he's not actually at home, but in front of his school. Oh fuck.

He jerks and sits up straight to look around him. Where was the singing coming from?

“You alright there?” Liam asks from where's he's trying to explain the specifics of their homework to Zayn.

“Yeah, I'm... I'm just looking for someone,” Louis explains half heartedly, resulting in twin confused looks from his friends. He elects to ignore it.

Instead, he tries to focus his still sleepy brain on finding out where the singing is coming from. He recognizes the song as _Sympathy for the Devil_ , and if he needed any more confirmation that it was indeed H, that did it.

He zeroes in on the guy who'd almost tripped over his ankles earlier, the blonde one, because he appears to be providing the background music. Could he really be his neighbour? He looks a bit better – the guy is sitting in the direction of the sun, so he can't make him out entirely – but sees that he's only playing guitar and he's not the one singing. That means the guy's friend must be his neighbour.

“Who are you looking for?” Zayn asks, forgetting about homework.

“My neighbour,” Louis says, absent minded, trying his best to somehow look around the blonde guy with the guitar to see his friend.

“Well, what does he look like?” Liam asks, always helpful.

“I don't know,” Louis says, and if his friends weren't confused before, they definitely are now.

Louis gets up and starts moving towards the singing. He has every intention of making a great entrance, but he doesn't know how to start. What would be a good way to open conversation with someone you'd only talked to through a wall? _Hi, I'm the guy you usually sing with, naked under the shower_? No way.

So instead, he resorts to what he always does with his neighbour. He starts singing, and resolutely ignores the incredibly high Disney-factor of that move.

Like the first time they sang together, H stops singing the moment he hears Louis' voice. Louis doesn't, and within seconds, H picks it up again.

Louis comes to a halt before H and the blonde guitar playing guy as the song ends – perfect timing, Louis, excellent job – and he's pretty sure he can feel his knees trembling. Which, really, is ridiculous, because it's just his neighbour. Then again, the guy is bloody gorgeous. He's got long, wild hair with curls that look very very soft and skin that looks delicious. His legs, stretched out in front of him, go on for ever and ever and Louis is having a very hard time looking away from all that.

“Can I help you?” the guy with the guitar asks, a big smile on his face.

“Ehm, yeah, hi,” Louis tries and thinks he sounds 100% lame. “I think that, ehm, I'm your friend's neighbour?”

“I think so, too,” H says with a grin that's entirely too big for his face, but somehow looks completely charming. A look of comprehension dawns on the blonde guy's face, and Louis briefly wonders what H has told him about his singing shower escapades.

“I'm Harry,” H says and jumps up to hold out his hand. God, he's tall. He's really fucking tall. And his name is _Harry_.

“Louis,” Louis introduces himself and shakes Harry's massive hand, grinning.

* * *

 

Louis gets woken up by Harry's loud singing – _You Really Got Me_ , by the Kinks – and groans loudly. Sunday was supposed to be his lazy day. No early rising on Sundays, dammit.

Oh well. He's awake now anyway. Might as well do something useful.

He swings his legs off the bed and forces himself to get up, joints popping like he's an old man. He grabs a towel from the stack of clean laundry and starts singing along on his way to the shower. It immediately cheers him up.

He throws his towel in the sink before pushing the shower curtain open and slipping in behind Harry, stopping his singing to press kisses all along his boyfriend's warm, damp neck.

“Your lips are freezing, Lou,” Harry giggles, and squeals when Louis puts his cold hands on Harry's waist and grinds his hips against Harry's bum. He noses against Harry's jaw, nibbles on his earlobe and whispers in his ear.

“Keep singing.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to, come say hi on my [tumblr!](http://goingtofixmyhome.tumblr.com)
> 
> Please leave kudos! <3


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